| I set if off by letting you know that I can flow to many beats
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| Similar to flu so freely
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| And you can say I’m getting kind of greedy
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| But so what 'cause I’m supplying the needy
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| Well some MC’s go for there it be I buried the
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| Remain of the other 'cause they suck incredibly
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| Superficial styles only last a little while
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| But they’ll never hold a candle to the Gangstarr profile
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| More than just wit and more than just intellect
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| And more than a gangster 'cause I kill wit a mic check
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| And I’m no the one wit the H on his back meaning the herb
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| I like the funky beats, I like the cur
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| Most likely in a blunt as I roll it really steady
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| Then I get mentally ready
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| Ans play a track from the heavies and mellow out
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| 'Cause my main objective is to be more effective
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| It’s getting hectic, it’s getting crazy
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| I’ts getting hectic, it’s getting wild (4x)
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| And when the mic stands free, I then step to the
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| Point of attack 'cause the track feels good to me And I intend to break ya out of your restraints
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| 'Cause you gain interest in my lines like I’m City Bank
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| And thanks to the Brand New Heavies and everyone
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| Who can dig the movement of the Guru, smooth and
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| Proving that I’m the relevent, eloquent one
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| Suckers getting whoopings like they’re all my sons
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| Remembering rap from the days of it’s origin
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| The power of many men ascend from my pen
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| Dissing the ones wit the fame and claiming they’re hard
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| Yo, them, I disregard
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| 'Cause they ain’t all cracked up to what they should be Some like are wannabees and some like are wouldbees
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| And I’m getting vexed by the crap they project
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| They put in on wax and all their records still racks
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| Rearranging the script is my worst shift gear in a flash
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| Putting cash in a stash, ain’t nuttin funny, money
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| Much greater gifts, I receive, are those who are blessed
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| And me, I got a treasure chest
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| By all means protected at all times
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| you try to front and you’ll pay more than a small fine
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| I don’t brag about the stuff I did
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| I simply roll correctly, demolishing stupid kids
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| And they’re running off wit the lip and not accomplishing zip
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| I tell 'em, wake up son 'cause this is it Peep out the suckers who are faking
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| Flaking moves on the mic and in life
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| Strife is what I give them 'cause I’m living how I should be And you better move 'cause the groove is like deadly
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| And no, you ain’t all that and many ain’t legit
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| So I’m a put a mark for they get bust
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| Yo Gangstarr, 1991 into 92 and beyond
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| Lounging wit the Brand New heavies,
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| DJ Premier and the Guru from Brroklyn
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| Peace out |